


Waffenstillstand

by echo_of_words



Series: Cutthroat Fiction Event [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War I, British Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, British Morality | Patton Sanders, Christmas, Gen, German Logic | Logan Sanders, Implied Past Creativity | Roman Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mentioned Creativity | Roman Sanders, Swearing, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24097480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echo_of_words/pseuds/echo_of_words
Summary: Waffenstillstand, der. (n) - German for "truce".Virgil and Patton are British soldiers, deployed at the British-German front during the Great War. It seems to be just another day at war, but it turns out that for Christmas, there's a treat in store for them, and they meet a German soldier who... doesn't actually seem that bad.WW1 AU. Based on the Christmas Truce of 1914.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Cutthroat Fiction Event [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738621
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Waffenstillstand

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as part of an event called Cutthroat Fiction, inspired by Cutthroat Kitchen! Basically, we were four competitors, and we got a prompt to write a fic set in a different time period. Then we were allowed to bid to sabotage each other with things like not being able to use a certain character's name, or having to write the fic in a different time period than we originally planned. I was lucky enough not to get sabotaged, but who knows what'll happen in the next round?  
> Anyway, this was the fic I decided to write! It's based on the Christmas truce of 1914, which was a real event during WW1 where mostly British and German soldiers decided to have a truce over Christmas. I highly suggest reading up on it if you're interested! (However please note that I am not an expert on this subject matter and I may have gotten some facts wrong. Take it as me taking a little creative liberty.)
> 
>  **Warnings:** Gun mention, swearing, implied past character death, war, Christmas, implied past Logince

Virgil scrunches himself even smaller and hugs himself tightly. He knows it won’t protect him from the cold, but he can’t help but shiver as the cold and dampness seeps into his already chilled body from the freezing winter air and the cold earth wall behind him. The military uniform is designed to be practical, not necessarily keep them warm, and so he’s forced to huddle into himself the best he can to protect himself from the cold.

He tries to think back to a better time. He thinks about where he was this time last year. Back at home, with his family, in their small but comfortable apartment in the middle of London. There was a fire blazing in the grate, and they were sitting around the Christmas tree in the living room, munching on some freshly baked cinnamon cookies. _Those were good times._

But that was before the war. So much has changed over this past year. Back then, if you’d told Virgil he’d be sitting in a trench, he wouldn’t have believed you. Of course he wouldn’t; why would he? Life was good, and he wasn’t exactly expecting a war to break out.

And yet, here he is. He sighs and scrunches his eyes shut. Maybe if he tries hard enough, he can stay in the daydream memory of being with his family a little longer.

“Virge?”

He looks up. Patton’s looking over at him curiously.

“You alright?”

Virgil sighs again. “Yeah. Just cold. Thinking about this time last year.”

“Ah.” A small, sad smile appears on Patton’s face as he, too, seems to recall a long-gone memory. “Yeah. It’d be nice to have a normal Christmas, wouldn’t it? Or at least one day without all this fighting. It doesn’t seem right to be killing people on Christmas.” His eyes widen. “Not that it’s ever right to be killing people! But...you know. Especially on Christmas, y’know?”

“Yeah.”

They fall silent again. Even though there’s more people stationed only a few yards away from them, it’s eerily quiet, both on their side and, it seems, in the enemy trench. Slowly, it begins to get darker as the day grows to a close, and night breaks in without any change.

Until suddenly, a voice cuts through the silence.

“ _Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht._ ”

Virgil, who was previously staring at the ground with an unfocused gaze, snaps up. Patton, too, jumps a little at the unexpected sound.

“ _Alles schläft, einsam wacht._ ” Other voices have joined in now, and judging by the direction of their source and the language the words are in, the singing is coming from the German trench.

“ _Nur das traute hochheilige Paar_ _  
_ _Holder Knabe im lockigen Haar_ _  
_ _Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh’_ _  
_ _Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh’._ ”

“Is that…” Virgil racks his brains, trying to remember the name of the song. “ _Silent Night_?”

Patton nods, although he doesn’t speak. He looks transfixed as the singing continues, the familiar melody accompanied by foreign lyrics creating an odd sort of contrast. Still, the sound cutting through the still night air sends chills down Virgil’s spine that have nothing to do with the cold.

“ _Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht  
_ _Gottes Sohn, oh wie lacht._ ”

Patton slowly starts to get to his feet. Virgil jerks to look at him, alarmed. “What are you doing?” he hisses. “It could be dangerous! What if it’s a trap?”

But it’s too late - Patton’s already poked his head over the edge of the trench. He stares for a moment, then looks down at Virgil, his eyes sparkling. “Look! Virgil, _look_!”

Completely taken aback by this, Virgil just stares at him for a few moments before processing what he’s asking him to do. Hesitantly, he too gets to his feet, wincing a little at the stab of pain in his numb legs, and peeks over the edge.

He stares. All along the enemy trench, the soldiers seem to have hung up _lanterns_ , and by their light, he spots several small fir trees they must’ve set up as well.

“ _Lieb aus deinem göttlichen Mund  
_ _Da schlägt uns die rettende Stund’._ ”

“They… what?” he eventually manages to say. He can’t believe the sight before him.

“ _Christ, in deiner Geburt_ _  
_ _Christ, in deiner Geburt!_ ”

“The fuck’s going on?” someone further along their trench yells. Nobody answers, though. As Virgil glances along the trench, he sees that more soldiers have gotten to their feet and are looking across the bare strip of No Man’s Land between the two trenches. He can’t see their faces at this distance, but he imagines an expression similar to his current feeling of mixed wonder and incredulousy.

The German soldiers keep on singing, though, and for the next few minutes, Virgil and Patton - and most of the other soldiers on the British side - are silent, listening, transfixed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Virgil worries that it’s a trap, that they’ll be attacked at any moment, that they’re going to die and it’s going to be his fault for not being more attentive, but he pushes it away and just listens to the singing, remembering again that Christmas Eve that now seems a hundred years ago.

Eventually, though, the song draws to a close, and once it’s over, the night air once again turns still and silent.

Virgil snaps out of his trance and sits back down, tugging Patton down with him by the sleeve. “It might not be safe,” he mutters. “What if that was just—”

“Virge, I’m sure it’s fine.” Patton gives him a reassuring smile. “I think that was just proof that even in times like these, people will still try to embrace the Christmas spirit, y’know?”

Virgil sighs. “I guess.”

They fall silent again, and Virgil’s gaze goes out of focus again as he stares at the opposite wall of the trench, trying to ignore the way the air steadily grows colder still, until he’s sure they must be in the negatives again. It’s not like he has a way to check, but it feels so cold it must be below freezing.

He almost misses the shouting. It’s coming from somewhere further up their trench, near where the higher-ranking officers sleep. He can’t hear exactly what the voice is saying, but after a few moments, someone shouts back, this time from the German trench. He wonders what they’re talking about, but he can’t make out the words, and so he resigns himself to tuning them out once more, and falls back into his stupor of staring at the wall and wishing he were somewhere else. Someone on their side must have been inspired by the Germans, because at some point, he hears people singing _Silent Night_ again, although this time with the familiar English words.

After what seems like forever, when even the last rays of daylight have vanished beneath the horizon, there’s the sound of footsteps coming towards them. Virgil looks up and sees one of the higher-ranking officers coming walking along the trench, pausing to say something to every person he passes. Virgil watches him approach, feeling apprehensive. If it was bad news, there'd be a commotion, shouting, quickly barked orders from both sides, probably followed by gunfire, but there’s none of that, so he can only assume it’s some sort of other message the officer is passing around.

The man reaches the place where Virgil and Patton are sitting. “Christmas truce,” he says. “We reached an agreement with the Jerries. No firing for tomorrow, Christmas Day or Boxing Day. We’ll have time to rebuild the trenches and bury our dead.” Without waiting for an answer, he keeps walking, leaving Virgil and Patton to stare at each other, both hardly daring to believe it.

“Oh, Virgil,” Patton breathes eventually. “Virgil, this is amazing!”

“Yeah.” Virgil feels his heart soar with relief. “Three whole days without having to worry about attacks… It doesn’t seem real,” he admits. “I… I know it could be a trap, but… I want to believe it, you know?”

Patton laughs. It’s not the kind of laugh you have when you find something funny - it’s a laugh of pure joy that lifts Virgil’s spirits as well, and he decides that for once, he’ll choose to forget his worries and bask in the temporary peace that he’ll find when morning comes.

* * *

“Hey, Virge!”

“What?” Virgil mumbles, rubbing at his eyes. “What’s going—wait. Pat?”

Patton’s sitting right in front of him, beaming. It’s clearly way past the time they’re usually expected to wake up, as, judging by the lighting conditions, sunrise was several hours ago.

“Morning, sleepyhead!”

“Wait, why didn’t—what? Why didn’t they wake us?”

“Because it’s Christmas, I guess! Truce, and all that. Now come on, I wanna go talk to the Germans!”

“What?” Virgil’s fully awake now, and he stares at Patton. _Has he lost his mind?_

“We can go into No Man’s Land! There’s loads of Germans up there, and the officer just came through and said it was okay for us to go up too and I was going to let you sleep but I wanna go now but I also don’t wanna leave you here on your own so you’re coming with me. Come on!” Patton jumps to his feet and looks at him expectantly.

“I—are you sure that’s a good idea?” Virgil asks, wary. _Is it safe to just… walk up to the enemy and strike up a conversation? Even if there’s a truce, that doesn’t seem like the smartest of ideas._

But Patton’s clearly not going to give up, and Virgil has to admit he _is_ kind of curious, so he sighs and pushes himself up from the ground, stretching and wincing as his joints pop, stiff from spending the night in his usual cramped sleeping position.

Patton places his hands on the top of the wall and is halfway through pushing himself up when he abruptly seems to remember something and drops back down to rummage inside his pack for a second before pulling out the box they received the day before and popping open the lid to take out the bar of chocolate still wrapped in silver paper.

“Uh… what are you doing?”

“If we’re gonna to talk to people, I wanna give out Christmas presents!” Patton beams at him, an almost childish sort of excitement in his voice.

Virgil sighs. “Of course you do.”

The two of them clamber out of the trench. It’s strange to be standing above ground level for once, especially as this area is usually one of the most dangerous places to be. However, today, people are all over the barren strip of land, standing or walking around in small groups. Even more surreal is the fact that Brits and Germans seem to be _talking_ to each other, and from what Virgil can see, no scuffles or fights have broken out yet.

“Woah,” Patton says, summarising Virgil’s thoughts in one word. “This is amazing!”

“Yeah.”

Patton looks around and, a few moments later, starts walking towards a German soldier sitting huddled on the ground and staring up at the cloudy grey sky. Virgil hurries after him, apprehension rising again. _What if something goes wrong? What if he doesn’t want to talk to us? What if he decides to demonstrate that? What if Patton gets hurt? What if—_

They reach the man. Patton sits down next to him. “Hey!” he says, a cheery tone in his voice. “Do you speak English?”

The soldier takes a moment to respond. Virgil, hovering awkwardly next to them, is quickly regretting his decision to accompany Patton. He has absolutely no desire to make conversation with this person, or any person for that matter, and—

“Yes, I do.” The man’s words are heavily accented, and he doesn’t look at them, keeping his gaze fixed on the clouds.

Patton looks up at Virgil and pats the ground next to him. “C’mon, Virge, sit down!” He turns back to the German. “I’m Patton, and this is Virgil! What about you?”

Another pause. “My name is Logan.”

Patton perks up. “That’s such a nice name! I have a friend at home named Logan! It’s not a German name, though, is it?”

“No.” He doesn’t elaborate. Patton doesn’t seem perturbed by the man’s apparent tight-lipped nature, though, and pulls the bar of chocolate out of his pocket, unwrapping it and breaking a corner off to hold it out to him.

“Hey, want some chocolate?”

The man—Logan—looks away from the clouds to turn and stare at Patton. “What?”

“Chocolate! Do you not have that in Germany?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Of course we do. I am simply wondering why you would choose to give me such a precious gift. I’m sure it’s not exactly an abundant resource in your trenches, either.”

“Because it’s Christmas! Isn’t this supposed to be all about giving presents?”

“I—” The man hesitates. “I suppose so, but…” he trails off. “I do not have anything to give in return,” he admits eventually. “At least, nothing that seems of adequate worth.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that! I just wanna share a little Christmas spirit, y’know?” Patton beams at him. Virgil, meanwhile, is in the process of questioning his entire existence. _That… actually worked? They’re actually having a conversation right now?_

There’s a pause, before Logan hesitantly reaches out and takes the piece of chocolate Patton is holding out, although once he’s holding it, he eats it quickly, as though afraid Patton will change his mind.

Patton hands Virgil a piece too. “Thanks,” he says quietly and eats his too, savouring the sweet taste. He hasn’t opened his own yet, having wanted to save it for later, but now that he’s gotten a taste, he thinks he might break that resolution a little earlier than originally planned.

“What’s it like living in Germany?” Patton asks. Logan looks surprised at the question, but after a moment, he begins to speak.

“It’s...nice. Or, at least, my village is nice. I’ve always lived there, and it’s… well, it’s home. It’s not a big place, but I definitely wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. I used to go into the forests around it all the time, they’re—” He breaks off. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be rambling.”

“No, I find it interesting!” Patton reassures him, and his voice sounds genuine. “If you don’t mind sharing, please go on!”

Logan hesitates, then continues on. “I used to go into the forests surrounding our village with my… friend, Roman.”

“Oh, I have a friend named Roman too!” Patton says excitedly. “His name is pronounced differently, though. I suppose that’s just language differences?”

Logan nods. “Yes. I think his name fits him, though. He’s always loved books, and if you pronounce it differently, _Roman_ is the German word for novel.” He looks back up at the sky. “Books were always something we had in common.”

“I like reading, too,” Virgil says quietly, wanting to add something to the conversation himself. “I considered becoming a writer before… well, before all this happened.”

“So did Roman. But he—well. Same as you. He had to give that up when we got recruited.”

Virgil knows Patton’s probably about to ask where Roman is, and he elbows him. “Don’t be insensitive,” he whispers, hopefully quietly enough that Logan doesn’t catch it.

Patton’s eyes widen in understanding and he nods before turning back to Logan. “So, uh, what did you and Roman do all day back when you were home? How do Germans spend their time?”

“Well, we’d usually just… walk around and talk. We did that a lot. Roman was— _is_ a wonderful conversation partner.” Logan smiles a little as he seems to remember him. “We had a lot of arguments, but we were never seriously angry at each other. Mostly, it was about benign things, like whether his singing was too loud. He… he’d always sing. He w— _is_ an amazing singer. And at night, when the skies were clear, we’d go stargazing. There’s a lot of hills around the village, and there was one without any trees on it. We’d climb up there and lie on the ground and just… look up at the stars and talk. I never got tired of his voice.”

Logan’s voice cracks on the last word, and he stops talking, as though he doesn’t trust himself to go on.

Patton lays a hand on his shoulder. “He sounds like a wonderful friend.”

Logan nods wordlessly.

Nobody speaks for the next few minutes. They watch the other soldiers walking around, repairing trenches and talking to the other side’s troops. Still, nobody seems to be fighting, and Virgil allows himself to relax a little more. _Maybe this truce really is just going to be peaceful._

Logan clears his throat. “I… I apologise. You were simply asking what my life was like at home, and I got a little more emotional than necessary.”

“Emotions are healthy,” Patton says quietly. “You shouldn’t apologise for expressing them. Bottling things up can be a lot worse.”

There’s another pause. Then, Logan digs a small can out of his pocket.

“Here. I know it doesn’t come close to the value of the chocolate, but I feel obligated to give you something in return.”

Patton takes the can and Virgil leans over to look at it. He can’t read what the label says, although the word _Bratwurst_ is explanatory enough to him.

“Sausage?” he asks.

Logan nods. “Again, sorry for not having anything else, but—”

“It’s fine! I’ve always wanted to try these!” Patton interrupts excitedly. “Thank you so much!”

Logan smiles again, a small smile that isn’t very pronounced on his face, but Virgil can tell by his eyes that it’s genuine. “You’re welcome.”

They spend the rest of the day not doing much else, just talking to each other sharing experiences from before the war. At some point, a group of the other soldiers starts a game of football, and the three of them watch as the two sides cheer their players on until the Germans take the victory at 3:2. Nobody seems to really mind losing, however, and by the end of the day, Virgil’s spirits are considerably lifted, and as he and Patton head back to the trench, he thinks that maybe the enemies aren’t so bad after all. Logan seems like a genuinely nice person, and briefly, he wonders whether, had they met in a different situation, they could have been friends.

Well, some things just can’t be helped.

He just hopes he’ll never have to see Logan as the enemy at the other end of his gun.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr! [@echo-of-words](https://echo-of-words.tumblr.com) (I also currently have a Bad Things Happens Bingo card and am still in need of prompts, in case anyone wants to send me some!)


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